


Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig

by I_am_lampy



Series: After All These Years [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, as usual, because I had to give y'all a teaser, because I'm a slut for your love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-04
Updated: 2017-04-04
Packaged: 2018-10-14 15:12:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10539039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_am_lampy/pseuds/I_am_lampy
Summary: In the cab on the way home, John anticipates bottom!Sherlock.





	

John had a friend named Gina who he had met at the surgery and she had offered a few weeks before to take Rosie for a night or two _so you two can have some fun together_. John had enlisted her help for this very, very special weekend. The No More Bored Sherlock weekend.

On the way home from the hotel, in the back of the cab, John watched Sherlock who pretended he didn't know John was watching him but every time John looked at him for more than a few seconds, Sherlock's neck would get splotchy and he would go _blink blink blink_.

"We have all night and all day tomorrow," John murmured leaning towards Sherlock who went _blink blink blink_.

They had checked out of the hotel as soon as Sherlock had been capable of walking to the shower. They had taken separate showers for the sake of expediency. They both knew the two of them in the same shower, with the potential for slippery soap – they knew better and they wanted to be in their own bed, even if it was going to be hot and humid.

"We can do a lot in – " John looked at his watch. It was five in the evening. " – twenty hours."

Splotchy neck. _Blink blink blink_.

John was a god. He was an absolute fucking god. Two fingers had brought Sherlock down among the little people. If John had known this would happen, he would have kidnapped Sherlock a year ago, when Sherlock was still accosting John every time he turned a corner, always aggressive, thinking _no_ meant _if you kiss me more I'll say yes_ or _just put your hands around my cock and then, okay, yes_.

Sherlock was the way he was; John had never been in denial about that. Sherlock was a bulldozer and he didn't even have one of those warning things that went _BEEMP BEEMP BEEMP_ when it was about to back over you. You just had to know when to jump out of the way. Sherlock was bossy and irresponsible and reckless. He didn't know how to stop being Sherlock. John had always been there to sort of mitigate the worst of it. Except when he _was_ the worst of it.

They never talked about the time in the morgue except that one time, a year ago, when they had both said those words that had changed their lives ( _I'm in love with you_ ). They didn't talk about that time in their lives when Sherlock had been desperate because he had lost John. Mary had said _save John Watson_ and he had been in despair because how could he save John if John hated him?

John had packed the guilt and anguish he felt for what he had done to Sherlock into a tight little box and then tried to hide it away deep down inside, but it had influenced their relationship. John had sworn silently to Sherlock _I'll never hurt you like that again_. He had vowed to Sherlock _I'll be the one on the ground getting kicked by you before I would lift a finger to hurt you_.

It had made John more passive in their relationship than he should have been. He had let Sherlock set the pace for everything, including sex. There were things John wanted but he was afraid to ask. He didn't want to push Sherlock to do anything that Sherlock hadn't already thought of because it felt too much like pushing Sherlock down, down on the floor of the morgue again.

He wanted to say things like _let's get married_ because Sherlock wouldn't understand it. He would say it was just a piece of paper. But John wanted to get married. He wanted to say _adopt Rosie because it can't just be me_. He wanted to say _you need to sit and eat when we eat and not brood in the sitting room like a fourteen year old_. He wanted to say _let's get your sperm out of storage and have another baby and then we'll use my sperm and have a third_. Because Sherlock would say _are you fucking crazy_?

Sherlock was constantly pushing him up against walls and giving him impromptu blowjobs and it was fantastic, of course it was, but John wanted to just once – _just once_ – strong-arm Sherlock into letting John reciprocate. Sherlock would give, give, give and then suddenly it would be all taking and John let him set that pace because he was never going to push Sherlock ever again.

Being fucked by Sherlock had felt so good but had also been – he didn't want to admit what it had been because it made it seem like he had done it _only_ for Sherlock when that wasn't at all true; John had wanted it from the beginning. But it eased some of the anguish inside John to let Sherlock have that absolute control; to be the one penetrating John instead of the other way around. John wanted to fuck Sherlock very badly but when Sherlock had insisted he didn't; he wouldn't like it; he didn't want to try it (and after he had made a big speech that first day about both of them trying everything), John had let it go, had said he didn't care; it didn't matter; he was okay not doing that.

But then John thought _the best cure for boredom is to do something you've never tried before_ so he had convinced Sherlock to at least try being fingered.

John smiled smugly. _Of course smugly_ and looked at Sherlock who's neck got splotchy and who went _blink blink blink_.

Sherlock had shown his hand. Sherlock wanted to be fucked just as much as John wanted to fuck him. The flat was empty for the next twenty hours and Sherlock was gagging for it.

Oh, John was a god.

**Author's Note:**

> I always welcome emails from readers about anything that tickles your fancy, even if it's just randomness!
> 
> archiveofMYown@gmail.com  
> Teddy


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